


you'll be the anchor (keep my feet on the ground)

by koganewest



Series: angst sentence prompts [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lonely Lance (Voltron), M/M, Pining, They're a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-07 15:50:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16856893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koganewest/pseuds/koganewest
Summary: If you had asked Lance a year ago, or even adayago, he truly would have thought that he and Keith would live together for a long time, probably until one of them settled down with a partner.But, apparently, he was wrong, because he comes home one random day during the dead of winter, and all Keith’s things are packed into a suitcase and a single box.





	you'll be the anchor (keep my feet on the ground)

**Author's Note:**

> prompts: "even after all we've been through?"  
> "you can't say that when you're the one who left!"

Lance met him in college.

About five years ago, they were placed together as roommates at Olkari University during their freshmen. Lance was in the pre-law program, passionate about bringing justice to the world, while Keith was studying mechanical engineering, passionate about the way things worked. They were pretty much polar opposites, at each other’s throats with any opportunity, and it made their first semester truly miserable.

Until a random Tuesday night in mid-December when the nature of their friendship changed entirely. Keith came back early from the library and found Lance frustrated and upset over his midterm grades, which put him at risk of failing out. When Keith found out, he disappeared from the room for about twenty minutes without a clue to where he went. 

When he returned, he had a pint of Lance’s favorite ice cream, tucked him in with blankets and set up a movie on his laptop. When Lance questioned why he was being so kind, Keith only shrugged nonchalantly in reply and continued to help.

For hours into that fated night, they watched Adam Sandler comedy movies and eventually, Keith fell asleep on Lance’s shoulder. 

From then on, they were friends.

It’d been awkward at first, since they were used to hating each other, but they here to have a better understanding of each other. Slowly but surely, their friendship grew, and they became inseparable, rooming together for their sophomore year, then renting an apartment for their remaining two years at university. 

Now, they both have just graduated, choosing to still live together as they begin their new lives. Keith was working at a local garage, finally doing something he enjoyed, while Lance was a paralegal during which he took graduate classes.

If you had asked Lance a year ago, or even a day ago, he truly would have thought that they would live together until either of them settled down with a partner.

Apparently, he was wrong. Because he comes home one random day during the dead of winter, and all Keith’s things are packed into a suitcase and a single box.

Face to face, Lance stares at Keith, who looks like a trainwreck. And he’s crying.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Lance frantically questions, stepping forward to put his hands on Keith’s shoulders to stop him from shaking. But Keith flinches away, taking quick steps backward.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” Keith sobs, forcefully rubbing at his eyes. The gesture itself tells Lance that he’s panicking, and his suspicions are confirmed when he sees Keith struggle to breathe. He’s never seen his best friend so utterly distraught. “I can’t, I just can’t, I–”

“Breathe for me, okay? Please think about this,” he soothes and tries to make his posture as non-threatening as possible. “We’ve lived together for years. Why do you suddenly want to leave?”

Keith doesn’t respond at first, though; he just keeps brokenly crying into his hands. Lance has no idea what to do, so he waits for Keith to calm down. On any other day, he’d hold Keith and help him through the breakdown, but it seems as if he doesn’t want to be touched. So Lance waits. 

Eventually he answers, soft and sad. “Please just let me do this. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, I just – I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what anymore? Did I do something wrong? I don’t understand why you want to leave,” Lance pleads, but Keith just shakes his head, dark hair falling to cover tear stained cheeks. His shoulders slump with defeat and sadness. It’s Lance’s turn to panic. “How could you want to leave? Even after all we’ve been through?”

“You didn’t do anything, I promise. But I need this,” Keith assures him, grabbing the box and the suitcase, before pushing Lance out of the way toward the door. He turns back, looking at Lance with wide, watery eyes. 

“This is for the best, I promise. Please don’t follow me.”

* * *

Though it had been weeks since Keith moved out of the apartment, Lance occasionally still finds his things. 

This time, he’s digging through his mess of a closet when he finds Keith’s old nightshirt. It was an oversized Carhartt tee, pale blue and stained with various kinds of ice cream. Seeing the shirt causes Lance to remember the image of Keith clad in boxers and this damn shirt, sitting on their sofa, coffee mug in hand and atrocious bedhead. Lance brings the old shirt up to his face and, taking a deep breath, he tries to smell Keith on it.

Guiltily, he tosses the shirt onto the trash pile, never to be seen again.

* * *

A few weeks pass normally after that. Lance has structure to his life, so he does just fine. He goes to work, comes home tired, sleeps just fine without the snoring that used to reside across the hall.

It’s weird to not talk to Keith every day, but that was expected. After living with someone for years, it’s jarring to adjust to not seeing them at all. At times, he shouts Keith’s name across the hall before remembering. At times, he picks up his phone to remind Keith to buy eggs. At times, he turns a corner and expects his presence, only to be let down every single time. 

Despite it all, though, Lance thinks he’s coping pretty well. 

But then, as if the world is out to get him, he spots a familiar head of hair in his favorite coffee shop. Lance would recognize that mullet anywhere. Sitting at his favorite table. Waiting. Presumably for him.

Instead of approaching his (former?) best friend, Lance leaves before even picking up the drink he ordered.

* * *

The next day, Lance is prepared. He’s dressed in his usual work clothes, button-up white shirt covered partly by a navy blue blazer, carrying a briefcase under his arm. He’s prepared for Keith to be there again. He knows he’ll be there again.

When Lance spots him in the exact same spot as the previous day, he almost congratulates himself mentally. Even though he hasn’t survived the hard part yet, at least he still is able to predict Keith’s actions. 

So, gathering up all the courage and resolve he can possibly muster, he approaches that signature mess of dark hair, slides into the seat across from him, then makes eye contact with the most important person in his life.

“Lance! You’re here!” Keith looks surprised at the forwardness, probably guessing he’d have to chase after Lance in order to talk. When Lance doesn’t respond to the exclamation, Keith tries again. “I didn’t know how else to get ahold of you.”

“You know where I live, Keith,” he deadpans, refusing to show any emotion as he leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re telling me you couldn’t possibly think of any way to contact me, other than showing up here? Which I should remind you, in case you forgot,” he glances at his watch, “you have about 5 minutes until I leave here for work.”

“I–” Keith blinks, almost taken aback by how cold Lance sounds. What else did he expect? He was the one who left with absolutely no warning. Lance watches him struggle for words. “I just wanted to smooth things over between us,” Keith admits, looking down. Lance notices now that Keith’s left hand is shaking as he stirs his coffee, something Lance recognizes as a nervous habit. His right hand is in his lap, hidden by the table. “I want to fix things.”

And still, despite his apparent anxiety, Lance thinks he looks really good. He might’ve been hunched over in a wooden chair, but the leather jacket he wears makes him look tougher in some way. Underneath he wears a deep red shirt, and the color contrasts well with his pale skin while matching his deep blush. His hair, though, is a mess. Lance thinks he’s been running his hands through it. Still, he isn’t ready to give in. Keith might be hurt, but so is Lance. He never even got an explanation. 

“What is there to fix? We haven’t talked in weeks. Hate to break it to you, buddy, but the friendship we had disappeared when you did.”

Keith flinches at the words, and it shows Lance he’s accomplished what he intended. He’s hurt Keith. In a twisted way, it makes him feel better that he isn’t the only one in pain from this. The words leave Keith floundering, stuttering a few short words before he sighs and gains composure. “I miss you.”

And with three stupid words, Lance is reeling. “What the fuck, Keith?! You can’t say that when you’re the one who left!”

“I didn’t– You don’t understand why I left!” Keith sputters. A few customers in the shop glance toward them, reminding them they’re in a public area. So Keith lowers his voice, tries to fix his posture, but Lance sees right through it. Keith is trying to contain what he’s feeling, but he‘s doing a poor job of it. “I left for our own good.”

“Really, Keith? How was that for our own good? Go ahead, tell me. What good did that do for me?” He nearly snarls, crossing his arms over his chest. He watches Keith intensely, in refusal to back down from Keith’s expressive stare, concerned and a little broken. “Because it didn’t seem like a good thing. I never asked for an empty apartment,” Lance almost shouts. “I didn’t ask to lose my best friend.”

They glare at each other, opposing points of view, contrasting ice and fire. Lance wins the stare-down after he speaks, because it causes Keith to look down at his hands. They shake from the wrist down, but Keith is actively trying to hide it. The momentary silence is broken when he sighs. And finally, Keith explains, “I’m in love with you.”

If Lance wasn’t fully attentive, he probably wouldn’t have heard it. He almost doesn’t trust his own ears, until Keith explains himself further. “You didn’t need my feelings keeping you down. Leaving was better for both of us.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Lance blanches, extremely caught off guard. “If you loved me, why would you leave? That doesn’t make sense! All you did was hurt both of us!”

“Maybe,” Keith whispers, no longer able to look Lance in the eye. “But I thought it’d be for the best. That way you didn’t feel guilty about dating other people, and I could move on.”

Lance doesn’t know what to reply, so he just keeps his mouth shut. Of course. How could he not have realized? Everything suddenly made so much sense: the way Keith never seemed to approve of the people he dated, the looks Keith gave when he thought Lance wasn’t paying attention, the times he went so far out of his way to make Lance happy, and, most of all, the reason he left.

And then, unfortunately, he remembers he has to go to work.

“I have to go now,” Lance says, hurriedly standing and gathering his stuff from the table in front of him. He almost misses the way Keith's face falls, the way he drops his gaze downward, and the way his hands shake while he holds his coffee. Lance is quick to reverse the damage, though. He reaches out and lifts Keith's chin to look up at him, brushing away a misplaced piece of hair that fell into his eyes. Keith keeps his gaze downward, even as Lance talks. “But I still want to talk about this. Meet me here at noon on Saturday, okay?” 

Finally Keith looks him in the eye, expression hopeful and trusting. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Lance repeats, then begins to walk away from their table before stopping himself. “And Keith?”

He doesn’t turn back around to look, but he can hear the anticipation in Keith's voice. His heart is on his sleeve, evident in his voice, as he answers eagerly. “Yeah?”

“I missed you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is old but i edited it. idk man. based off the ask I got. im on tumblr[ here](https://koganewest.tumblr.com)
> 
> -lily


End file.
